Like life, the lapping waves broke on the shore, only to have another precede it, ever onward and always ending, but with an infinitesimal amount of beginnings. A train glided by whose vibrations rattled the bench I sat on, while a moist breeze licked at the hair on my arms and pushed the hair on my head out of place. And yet, I loved that it was out of place because I felt more in place than ever before.
I watched as a child threw a stone worn smooth by the constant ebbing and flowing of time into the sea. It made a resounding splash which I never forgot, no matter how old and jaded I became. He looked backward toward his father for approval, fully content in his place in the world before continuing.
I tasted the smell of salt in the air as I breathed deeply. It made me want to cough but I kept inhaling, filling myself with as much life until it felt like I would burst. I never wanted to let it go.
And then as I exhaled, I pushed sad thoughts away that it won’t always be like this. I stared intently at a motorboat in the distance, committing as much of the sound and sight to mind so I could forget the sadness; however, it’s always there, even in beauty.
But maybe the sadness is beauty, too I thought. Maybe the sadness is the beauty so that I can see the moments that live beyond the price tag.
A seagull cried as the wind picked up, carrying with it the first drops of a storm. As I gathered my belongings and stood up, I wondered if I could march into the sea, letting the rain consume me as the ocean washed me away and I became beautiful. I, too, want to be beyond the price tag.